


blindsided

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: “I think you chose those frames to make yourself look austere and professorial. I like you better with them off.”(Early S4. Anya shows up looking for Xander, and finds Giles instead.)





	blindsided

“I was informed that Xander would be here,” said Anya without preamble, pushing past an indignantly bewildered Giles to peer further into the apartment—as though Giles might have hidden Xander in the kitchen, or tucked him into a cabinet. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Because this is _my house,_ ” said Giles, irritation finally spurring him to shut the door and follow Anya into the kitchen. As she opened his refrigerator, he added, “And I do _not_ appreciate uninvited guests inserting themselves into my life for no reason—”

“Then you should really lock your door,” said Anya, removing the container of leftover pasta that Giles had made himself the night before and shutting the door. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“Stop— _stop_ that,” said Giles, exasperated, and attempted to take the pasta back. Anya dodged him, weaving nimbly through the kitchen to grab a fork from the silverware drawer. “You can’t just come into my house under the guise of looking for Xander—”

“Oh, no, I am looking for Xander,” said Anya matter-of-factly, swinging herself up to sit on the counter. “I just don’t feel like going home on an empty stomach if all my searching has been for naught. Did he head home?”

“Why on _earth_ are you looking for Xander?” This time, Giles tried to grab the fork; Anya batted his hand away. “ _Really,_ Anya—”

“It’s none of your business,” Anya scolded him. _Him._ The person whose _house_ she was forcibly occupying. “You should treat your guests more politely, you know.”

“ _Guests,_ ” said Giles, “are people who I _choose_ to invite into my home, or people who are always welcome. You are neither. I can accept that getting you to leave is a futile effort, but I will _not_ have you eating the pasta I was going to have for dinner.”

“You can make yourself your own pasta all over again, Giles,” Anya informed him through a mouthful of pasta. “Incidentally, this is _delicious!”_

Resigned, and resenting it, Giles leaned against the counter, staring at the refrigerator and feeling the exhausted sense that his life was _entirely_ out of his hands. Anya’s arrival only seemed to cement the feeling that had begun ever since the Council’s firing: that his only authority over the children, and the only respect he garnered from others, had come from his status as Watcher to the Slayer. He had been comforted by his job as librarian, but now even _that_ was gone—

“Hey,” said Anya suddenly. Her voice had softened. “You look sad. You wanna talk about it?”

Giles pressed his lips together. Then he said, “I really did want that pasta. That’s all.”

“Oh,” said Anya. She looked down at the pasta, bit her lip, and handed it back to Giles. “I didn’t realize it was such a problem,” she said. “All the kids come to your place and you don’t seem to mind. I’ll, uh, I should just—” She jumped down from the counter, brushing against Giles as she turned to hurry out of the kitchen.

“Anya?” said Giles.

Anya turned.

And it was the oddest thing, but all of a sudden, Giles remembered that this was not a college student in his kitchen. Anya was studying him with ageless, tired eyes, and she looked exactly as unmoored as he felt. “I have some scotch,” he said. “If you’d like some.”

“ _God_ yes,” said Anya, “ _no_ one in this town has been willing to serve me the alcohol I’m entitled to.” She grinned, a bright, sweet smile the likes of which Giles hadn’t received from an adult since— “Is this ‘cause I gave you back your pasta?”

“I find it helpful to encourage good behavior,” said Giles, who didn’t really want to say _I think we’re both lonely, and I think I should do something about that._

* * *

 

Anya could hold her scotch. Giles was beginning to feel rather comfortingly drunk, but Anya’s smile was still sharp, her eyes alert, her knees brushing against Giles’s as they sat facing each other on the couch. “Tell me something interesting,” she said.

Giles laughed a bit wryly. “You don’t want to hear me blather on,” he said. “Very few people do.”

“Well, I’m bored,” said Anya, crossing her arms, “and I want to know _something_ about the guy supplying me with high-quality liquor. Make my night a little more interesting, Giles.”

“Rupert,” said Giles.

Anya raised an eyebrow.

“Only the children call me Giles,” Giles elaborated. “And you aren’t a child, are you?”

Soft and slow, Anya smiled, leaning forward ever so slightly. “No, I’m not,” she said. “I think most of your charges seem to forget that.”

“You act like you don’t know what you’re doing,” said Giles. “I don’t think that helps the matter.”

Anya’s smile faded. “I _don’t_ know what I’m doing,” she said.

Now it was Giles’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You seem _startlingly_ competent,” he said. “Given the circumstances.”

“Well, thanks for _that_ sparkling endorsement,” said Anya dryly, taking a sip from her glass. She hesitated, eyes on the scotch, then said, “Being human is scary and confusing, and I’m not at all looking forward to dying. I don’t like that everyone looks at me like I’m some infant, and I _don’t_ like that there are all these new _rules_ for being human that I never needed to learn. And now I do. And I’m going to have to live out that boring mortal life that I never wanted, instead of watching the world burn like I _always_ wanted, and—” She exhaled, a frustrated, heartbroken noise. “I didn’t choose any of this,” she said.

Giles leaned against the couch, studying her face. “Why were you looking for Xander?” he said, though he thought he might already know the answer.

Anya was still staring at her scotch. “The answer’s pretty pathetic,” she said.

“Good to know you’re a maudlin drunk,” said Giles, and laughed, more from the alcohol than from any actual amusement.

It took Anya a long moment to look up. Her face softened a little as she looked at him, in a way that spoke of…possibility. Almost. “Xander took me to the prom,” she said. “That’s a human thing that humans talk about. He took me to the prom, and he wore a rented tux, and he slow-danced with me to some song I kind of liked. And…” She trailed off. “I remembered,” she said. “I was in his arms, and I remembered what it was like to be human. All the confusion, and the warmth, and the _love…_ ”

“Xander’s a bit young for you, isn’t he?” said Giles lightly.

Anya gave him a withering look. _“Everyone’s_ a bit young for me,” she said. “If I’ve only got a few decades before I shuffle off this mortal coil, I’m going to have to find someone fast. I am _not_ dying alone.”

Her words made something catch and break in Giles’s heart. “Well,” he said. “You’re still younger than me, at least biologically, and I’ve yet to find that someone yet. I don’t think you should settle for the very first—”

“Rupert, I’ve seen empires fall and civilizations rise,” said Anya flatly. “However long I have left is a _heartbeat_ compared to how long I’ve lived. I _don’t_ have the time that you do. I will _never_ have the time that you do. So—” She stopped, looking at Giles with a strange expression. “What?”

Giles had only registered one word. “You called me _Rupert,_ ” he said.

Anya hesitated. “Rupert,” she said again, and swallowed. “Can I—”

“Yes,” said Giles.

“You don’t even—”

“Yes,” said Giles.

Anya reached up and took off his glasses, setting them on the coffee table, looking tentatively back up at him. Vision slightly blurred, Giles saw her as more soft than angular, blonde hair soaking up the lamplight and radiating it outwards like a gentle golden sun. “I came here looking to kiss _Xander,”_ she said, a self-deprecating laugh in her voice. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Please never say his name again in that context and I’ll laugh all you like,” said Giles a little breathlessly.

In return Anya smiled, soft and almost shy, and—she looked her age. Old, and wise, and so bizarrely gentle, even after all she’d seen. “I do like you,” she said. “I think you chose those frames to make yourself look austere and professorial. I like you better with them off.”

Giles’s heart was beating very fast. “Anya,” he said. His voice shook. “I hope you know—”

“No, I get it,” said Anya. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his in a way that was more companionable than romantic. “I _do_ get it, Rupert. You need gentle handling.”

“I think the same could be said for you,” Giles murmured. He _ached_ to kiss her, and couldn’t at all blame it on the alcohol. She had seen so much, lost so much—

Anya took his face in her hands. “I’m not very good at being human,” she said. “I don’t know what I want, and it might not be you. Are those deal-breakers?”

“Actually, we may be on the exact same page,” said Giles, reaching up to trace her cheek with a fingertip. “I don’t know—I feel I’ve lost my center. My purpose. I don’t know how I can go on like this much longer if I’m on my own.”

Anya let out a soft, shaking breath. “You know, I’m _really_ glad Xander wasn’t here?” she whispered. “I think I would have done something I couldn’t take back.”

“And this can be taken back?” said Giles carefully.

“No, this—” Anya hesitated, then kissed him—really just a brush of a kiss, but the brief touch made warmth flare in Giles’s chest. It had been so long—too long—since he had shared a kiss with someone who had _understood._ “I wanted to know what it felt like to be human,” she said unsteadily. “I wanted Xander to make me feel like a human girl, with a human boyfriend and petty human concerns. I was so lost in that want that I don’t think I thought about whether I wanted _Xander.”_

“Please stop saying _Xander,_ ” said Giles, and kissed her again, grinning a little as she giggled against his mouth.

She pulled back to look at him. “Rupert,” said Anya, earnest and a little nervous, “what I’m saying is—I think I _like_ you.”

Giles raised his eyebrows, doing his best to look surprised.

“Stop— _stop,_ ” Anya laughed, and kissed him again, moving forward on the couch to straddle Giles’s lap. The warm weight of her in his arms, her hair brushing his face, made Giles feel—he hadn’t felt like this in years. Cozy. Happy. “I like you,” Anya whispered again, sounding almost surprised by the notion, as though she hadn’t expected to like _any_ part of this new life—and Giles, no longer a Watcher, could understand _that_ quite intimately.

“I—” Giles felt the words catch in his throat. He thought of Jenny dead on his bed.

Anya stilled, pulling back to look at him. “Yeah?”

He could stop this, he knew. Now, before he loved and lost again. But Anya was right—they only had a certain amount of time to live, and _any_ moment of happiness was one worth seizing. He could learn quite a lot from her. “Like you,” he finished, grinning a bit at Anya’s pleased, preening smile. “I like you, Anya.”

“You have _excellent_ taste,” said Anya, kissing him again. “I think I’m going to keep you around.”

* * *

 

“All the vengeance demons were telling me that it was the Watchers you had to keep an eye out for,” said Anya blissfully, a few hours later, sprawled gracelessly across Giles’s bed and taking up a _startling_ amount of space for someone so small. “They said the Watchers were terrible at their jobs but _incredible_ in bed, if you picked the right one.” She grinned, rolling over onto her side to face him. “You know, Rupert, I think I really did.”

And for the first time since the destruction of Sunnydale High, Giles really, properly started laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> i mostly just really wanted to write soft, tentative giles/anya, because That Really Is How Season 4 Should Have Gone. That Should Have Happened. they’ve literally both just lost their calling and are looking for any and every distraction!!!!! they’re both lonely and sad and big-hearted!!!!! i love them!!!!!!
> 
> also this fic took me 27 years to title and i just want that stated.


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